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The Umbilical Tree I explain. I have come to find my umbilical tree, the tree that holds my root in its roots. She pinches my cheek, shifts her crossed legs on the floor of someone else’s house, all these years and still someone else’s house. The sun halves itself in the sea. I explain. You are Lor who looked after me, you buried it here, after I was born. You told my parents I would never forget my roots. I have not forgotten. She explains. She is in someone else’s house, all these years and still someone else’s house, and the tree is gone, plucked by a hurricane years ago. She says she saw it go, taken like a match in the wind, that nothing was left, just a perfect belly button of dark brown soil. 44 ...

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